2. The Great city-state of Harebell

The sun hits hard. We’ve been waiting for ten minutes now for something to happen. The Tailor just stays still and doesn’t seem bothered by the heat at all.

The gates finally open, and a guard on hydraulic stilts passes through them to meet the Tailor.
He’s way taller than I remember, and his uniform… it’s way more intimidating.
Last time, the guards were around eight feet tall with their stilts extended; this one is at least thirteen.
He unpins a small device from his hip, and the stilts retract, putting him and the Tailor at the same level. They shake hands.

“Tailor in charge of the Northern Petal, I’m bringing seven pistils for the Ceremony. The current state of the Northern Petal, is…”

The Tailor’s voice is covered by a passing breeze, preventing me from hearing further.

I see him hand a card and a letter similar to the one he gave to the Lady in Apron to the guard.

“The transportation cabin will be here soon. You are awaited at the main lobby, where the Guide will receive the Pistils from the other Petals.”
The guard speaks loudly to be heard over the wind.

The Tailor nods, and the guard activates his stilts to elevate himself.
He reaches for a handle on top of the gates and pulls it. A bell rings, making a white cabin emerge from beyond the walls.

Mary, despite my earlier rejection, grabs my sleeve again.

“So… We are about to cross the giant pit?”
she asks fearfully.

“There isn’t any other way to reach Harebell. The pit surrounds the city walls on every side, and I only know about this entrance, although I think there might be others.”
I answer, trying to reassure her.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Mary. The heat must’ve gotten to my head. I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

She smiles widely.

“Don’t worry about it, Jur. I keep bothering you with all my questions after all. It’s normal to get annoyed sometimes.”

She giggles.

“Being around you is already enough for me.”

As I ignore this last comment, we both fall silent and watch the cabin arrive.

After some time, the cabin settles loudly onto a white concrete platform, and the Tailor signals us to stand in front of its door.
The guard unbuttons what seems to be a tight cloth collar from around his neck, unveiling his music box, and plays his note.
Rather than a single note, a two-note chord is played, followed by the Tailor’s.
The cabin’s door opens, and we all march inside.

“It’s steaming hot in here!”
Febry says.

I already feel sweat running down my back.

The cabin shakes and rises off the ground, the cables pulling it toward the walls.
I’ve never been a fan of heights, but I’ve done this trip so many times now that I’ve gotten used to it.
Nolvem and Mary, on the other hand, not so much.

“They never changed the cables, you know? Every time I come here, they seem even rustier. I wonder if they’ll snap at some point.”
I mockingly say to Nolvem.

“Jurny, come on! Why would you say that?!”
Mary says, shaking with stress.

Apry gets close to her and grabs her shoulders.

“Not cool.”
she tells me.

Febry presses his forehead against one of the windows and looks down.

“Why does it need to be so deep? And what are those… kind of bulbs lighting up from the bottom to the top of the walls?”
Febry asks.

“The walls are covered with them. How much time must it have taken to whoever built this to place every single one? There seem to be so many.”
He continues, admiring the work.

Out of curiosity, Nolvem tries to look outside but quickly backs away as soon as she does.

“The bulbs are the city’s power source. You’ll find them everywhere inside.”
Apry answers.

“I wonder how they work… Them lighting up from one point to another means that something is producing a kind of uneven energy from below…
I’m trying to see as much as I can, but the white mist below is hiding everything…”

“Well, don’t get yourself sick now. I wouldn’t want you to be unable to participate in the Ceremony!”

Febry smiles and pulls his head away from the window. Apry seems relieved.

I take a glimpse at the Tailor, but he doesn’t seem to even be breathing behind his veil. I like his style though.
That’s someone I wouldn’t even try to bother, seeing how much pressure he put on the Lady in Apron and how easily he sent Apry flying.
At his belt is a sheath holding what seems to be a blade. Why would a Tailor need a blade to begin with?
The only thing he did that fit his title was dressing Decy and the girls earlier; Inquisitor would suit him better.

The cabin finally reaches the giant walls.

The sunlight fades as we enter an enormous opening in the wall’s foundations.
The loud, low-pitched sound of the inner gates opening makes our bones vibrate and grows louder as we move forward.
The cabin shakes and stops.

We’re in front of two white metallic doors at the center of the structure.
The Tailor reaches for a device and plays his note into it.
The doors open, and light pours through the widening gap. The whiteness of Harebell blinds anyone who has never been here before.
The Tailor, Mayth, Apry, and I remain unaffected.

“Welcome to Harebell.”
Apry enthusiastically announces.

Here I am again.

The cabin is pulled inside the city, passing over the streets, alongside towering white buildings that seem to reach the sky,
the frantic bulbs flickering across their walls, and the platforms separating each level of the city.

“What an impressive architecture. I have never seen such tall constructions before. Everything is so… wonderfully white.
At last, I am allowed to set my eyes upon the great city-state of Harebell. What a delight to behold.”
Nolvem says in admiration.

“Ya damn sick princess.”
Mayth retorts.

We pass above the white plaza where the statue of the leaders stands at its center.
The cabin descends into a large building connecting all of the cabin lanes.
Ours docks slowly, and its doors open.

I cover my ears in anticipation and look at Mayth, who does the same.
The doors open, and Harebell’s lullaby floods the cabin, making the ignorant monthlings cover their ears in pain.

“What is this horrible noise?!”
Febry yells.

I laugh.

“It’s called Harebell’s Lullaby! An amalgam of the constant use of people’s boxes.
Doors, contracts, payments, discussions… everything is done using your throat box.
The noise numbs you over time, and you stop hearing it at some point.”
I explain.

“Ya nothin’ without ya music box here and its number of strings or its pitch. It controls ya social class and what ya can access.
Harebell’s split between a whole lotta social classes. We’re at tha bottom of tha scale here. A trashcan has more rights than us.”
Mayth says, ironically laughing.

“The lullaby slowly digs in ya skull till ya nothin’ more than their puppet.”
She adds.

“So the number of strings and the pitch of our music box determine our rank, kinda?”
Febry asks.

“Not only tha-”

The Tailor cuts their discussion short by tapping his cane loudly against the metal floor of the cabin.
He signals us to get out.
We all step outside.

The doors close behind us, and the Tailor places shackles around our ankles, all linked together.
Mayth is at the front, leading the group. Decy’s right behind her, then there’s Febry and Mary.
Apry is in front of me, and Nolvem is the last one behind me.
We all walk together through the lobby.

“Look! There are other monthlings!”
Mary eagerly shouts.

From other cabins, orphans our age step out, shackled just like us.
They’re dressed differently, each group bearing a different emblem sewn onto their clothes.
There are seven other groups of orphans. With us, that makes eight in total.
So, as I thought, and as I theorized last year, there are eight orphanages in total.
I wasn’t sure because there were empty groups two years ago…

Speaking of changes, the Tailor used words he never said before.
We’re apparently called the Pistils.
The Lady in Apron is called the Caretaker.
Our orphanage is called the Northern Petal.

Why did they never mention it before?

And the new devices on top of the city walls…
Something important changed last year and caused all this to happen.
Mayth might know about it.
Damn. She’s too far for me to ask.

“So there are others…”
Mary says, sounding relieved but saddened at the same time.

“Do you all think they have a Lady in Apron too…?”

Nobody answers.

They all seem fewer than we are.
I don’t get why the Tailor took all of us for the Ceremony as it seems we’re the only group concerned by this choice.

Chatter slowly overwhelms the lobby, covering Harebell’s Lullaby and echoing across the hall.

A loud throat box note rings out at the center of the lobby.
A lady stands proudly atop a step.
Her note is beautiful, formed by three notes playing together, a clear proof of her high rank.